


De Nocte Tenebrae

by orphan_account



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: All manner of queer characters, Apocalypse, Canon Divergence, Cecil is Inhuman, Cults, Dark Magic, Eldritch Abominations, F/F, F/M, Human Sacrifice, I promise, I'll post whenever I can, I'm fixing things, Lovecraftian, M/M, Takes place somewhat in the future, Typical Night Vale Weirdness, and my computer access is limited, like a year or so, other ships will be tagged as they appear, semi-hiatus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 13:45:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3211334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Demetrius Connors, a professor of psychology at Miskatonic University, has seen weird, everything from  shapeshifting shoggoths to the star-travelling Mi-Go, but when someone uses his copy of the Necronomicon to summon an ancient god, he's forced head-first into the enigma that is Night Vale and the impeding apocalypse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	De Nocte Tenebrae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A far-reaching dream is disturbed, a body is discovered, and a day is ruined before it even gets a chance to start.

Demetrius was dreaming. As always his dreams were unusual, or, at the very least, unusual for the general population. The dreams of the typical human-being are created within the mind. The images are simulated and unable to, in most cases, cause any  real harm. The way Demetrius dreamed, however, was essentially complex form of astral projection, one that allowed him to go beyond the typical restraints of time and space. He could go to any period of time, any point in space, as well as few beyond those constraints.

Currently he was several million miles away from earth, rushing over the surface of a dark planet orbiting a  bluish-white neutron star. When day broke there, the surface was bathed in an eerie blue light, only slightly brighter than earth’s moon. The planet’s own moons (two small objects half the size of earth) were as bright as a third of that combined, and at night, the surface was nearly black. The plants that grew there were sharp and stunted, and the sky was brimming with foreign stars.

Some planets were the homes of malevolent beings thatt delighted in  capturing  and devouring  the souls of wandering dreamers. Thankfully this one was not one of those. Instead it was home to all manner of bizarre flora and fauna, most of which had evolved harsh and bitter  on blood and death  and misery and were none the better because of it.

The  sentient life there was a hateful race, pale in color and resembling something of a cross between a land-dwelling shark, an armadillo, and a gruesome lizard. They had the intelligence of man, but were far more warlike than their earth counterparts, and failed to organize long enough to invent anything capable of  easing life for them .

Except the weapons. They were quite creative with those.

Demetrius soared over a field of waving black grass, stained a foul green by the decomposing corpses littered below. A plethora of eager scavengers picked  the dead apart with all manner of physical phenomena,  some akin to earth beasts, others  curious miracles of science.

Demetrius wondered  if this  place had a name. He’d  been here three times already, and had seen the way its natives spent their time, so  he sorely doubted  it. If it did indeed have one,  then it was one given by outside forces, forces that probably wouldn't appreciate a dreamer violating their  territory.

He departed the war zone and came across a pack of six-legged creatures without necks, and far more eyes than any being could possibly need (even in the dimness of this sun.)  They were pursuing a hulking thing, black in color, and resembling a rock. It was moving fast, sending up clouds of white dust, despite a visible lack of limbs.

Demetrius swooped closer and saw the prey animal has a pair of small, vestigial wings, far too small for flight. He couldn't help but feel a little sorry for it when its pursuers finally caught up. They latched on with long, wicked claws and shot proboscises as thick as his arm into its hide.

They sawrmed their prey and drained it, sucking its thick black blood through their tube. The rock beast shook itself violently in a valiant attempt at shaking off its attackers, but there was too many of them, and they had too strong a grip, and it came to violent stop, bellowing like a dying cow.span>

He noticed that they seemed to lack a social structure, acting like ravenous mosquitoes descending a human in a cold night.

One of the creatures broke off and scampered several feet until it stood directly below Demetrius. It sat on its hunches and buzzed, its gaze fixed on the dreaming human…

(;,,,;)

A hand shook him gently and Demetrius’ body jerked violently as he woke. 

Standing over him was Samson, a tall, scrawny man with pale hair and even paler skin. There were permanent dark circles under his muddy green eyes from many a sleepless night. He was dressed, but his clothes didn't match, so he must not have tried. He never really did. It was kind of sad.

“Dem.” He whispered.

Demetrius shields his eyes from the  too  bright light of the room. “The hell do you want? I was kind of sleeping.”  

Sam smiled sheepishly. “There’s been an incident.”

He sat up fetching his square-framed glasses from the night stand. His alarm  informed him that it was 5:27 AM. “What? It’s fucking early, in case you haven’t noticed.” His voice is cold and disinterested.

“At the  Miskatonic.”  

Demetrius frowned. "The  river or the university? ”

If it was the former, tere was probably a good chance he wouldn't give a shit,  that place was more polluted then  the Thames in Victorian England (set a match to it and it’ll burn, burn, burn,) but if it was the latter, where he worked full time as a professor of psychology ) then he was ready to panic. There are thing stored in his office, double locked and bolted, that could cause a lot of damage if they got into the wrong  hands.  Numerous home break-ins had forced him to keep them there, but despite the university’s high-level security (Arkham had a deliriously high crime rate ) there was still an occasional attempted theft.

“The university.” He replied. “Nothing’s been released to the press yet, but Andy called and told me what happened-“

Demetrius frowned. Andy was a detective with the Arkham police force, as well as well-know  eldritch  consultant and a good friend of Demetrius'.  Whatever was  going on couldn't be good if he was really trying to contact him.

“The press? Is there a corpse in my office?”

Sam shifted uncomfortably, unsettled by how calmly Demetrius asked this. “…Bits and pieces  of one, actually.”

“Meaning..?”

“Exactly how it sounds. According to Andy, and I quote, " the remains were shredded like they went through a lawnmower and then scattered like they were thrown in a fan ."”

“Was my safe broken?”

Sam blinked, further unsettled by how  unperturbed  Demetrius was about his previous statement. “I think so. Andy said there was a big book open in the middle of the floor,  (refused to say what it was…) can I assume it was  in the safe before?”

Demetrius smiled ruefully. “Oh yes.”

Whoever was in his office had somehow managed to break into the safe (after getting past  Miskatonic  security, an impressive feat within itself,) and get to the Grimmoire inside. They had the, in all stupidity, summoned something with the aforementioned tomb  with the hopes of controlling  it .  The “something” had probably laughed at the human’s feeble attempts at subjugation before merrily tearing them into itty-bitty pieces and taking off to gods knew where.

Fucking C-rate cultists. A lot of people would die because of this.  And  he  would have to fix it.

Fuming, Demetrius got out of bed, swiped his phone from the nightstand, and  approached his semi-ajar closet. He made a shooing motion at Samson as he dialed Andy’s number. The other  hesitated briefly before turning and leaving Demetrius alone in his bedroom. 

Two rings later Andy picked up. “Samson tell you about the mess?”

“Yeah. Is there anything missing?”

“Nope. Book, sword, everything’s still there.”

“How about,” he glanced back to make sure Samson wasn't listening, and then walked over to the doorway and glanced into the hallway to double-check, “ other things.”

“There’s and Elder Sign painted in black on your floor. The police don’t know what it is and it’s freaking them out.”

Demetrius snickered. “These are Arkham police?”

“They think they are, at least.” There’s an irritated edge to Andy’s voice. “Besides that, there’s something black and oily mixed in with the blood.”

“Hemolymph?"

There was some background yelling on Andy's end. "Give me a minute,  asswipe !" He snarls, and then he cleared his throat and said in a more friendly tone, "I'm speaking to the  professor  who happens to use this office. I'll be right there."

He paused. "Sorry Dem. Yes, I'd say it is hemolymph. Anyways, one of my guys just dug something up and wants me to come check it out. Be expecting an officer or two at your house later. Don't do anything to make you a suspect. Samson stayed over, right?"

Demetrius' cheeks burn. "Um, yeah."

"There's your alibi. I'll call you later."

The detective dropped the call before Demetrius could mumble a reply.

A low sigh escaped him. He could tell this day was going to be a living hell. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Night Vale in this chapter, sorry…! I promise we'll get there by chapter three or four. :3

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and review! And if you liked the work, please leave kudos. 
> 
> Thanks.


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